


A Thousand Kisses

by Depressedstressedlemonzest



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has Feelings (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and crowley are a bit domestic here in the hotel, Aziraphale gets fatshamed, Aziraphale has golden stretch marks, Aziraphale is fat, Aziraphale is in awe of crowley, Aziraphale wears something than that 180 year old coat, Crowley Has Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley Has PTSD (Good Omens), Crowley Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley has scales, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Crowley wears a dress, Cuddling, F/M, Fat Shaming, Fluff, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Nonbinary Crowley, Protective Crowley, Snuggling, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Time For A Wedding, anathema and newt are getting married, anathema has a lot of family, and the good stuff, attack octopi, aziraphale loves crowley's eyes, belly kisses, but Aziraphale is fat and every one needs to get over it, crowley comforts and assures Aziraphale, crowley gets and gives a lesson on what nonbinary is, crowley is demonic, crowley is in awe of Aziraphale, crowley is vengeful, crowley loves Aziraphale all of him, it sucked writing that, just as a warning, not her niece, oh look here's warlock with the Them, slight angst, soft, some are assholes, the Them and warlock are in the wedding, these idiots are in looove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:55:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Depressedstressedlemonzest/pseuds/Depressedstressedlemonzest
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley go to Anathema and Newt's wedding.They get all kinds of fancy dressed up and are just loving saps throughout the wedding.They get to see all their friends, Anathema,  Newt,  Warlock,  Adam,  The Them, Madame Tracy, Sergeant Shadwell, and some new characters.Then angst and sad feelings.Ends happily I promise!
Relationships: Anathema Device & Newton Pulsifer, Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale & Anathema Device, Aziraphale & Crowley & The Them (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley & Warlock Dowling, Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Warlock Dowling, Aziraphale (Good Omens) & Original Female Character(s), Aziraphale (Good Omens) & Original Male Character(s), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Anathema Device, Crowley & Warlock Dowling, Crowley (Good Omens) & Original Male Character(s), Warlock Dowling & The Them (Good Omens)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 153





	A Thousand Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this for a month so I hope everyone loves it as much as I do.
> 
> Hi thanks for reading!  
> Please dont be shy about commenting here or on my tumblr (which is also Depressedstressedlemonzest)  
> I dont bite and I try not to be an ass.
> 
> Warning there is fat shaming.  
> Warning there is a reference of homophobia.  
> Warning there is a scene when Aziraphale has an anxiety attack.  
> Warning there is a scene when Crowley has a PTSD episode.

"Welcome to The Churchill, how can I help you?" The receptionist at the marble topped welcome desk asked the pair. 

Aziraphale smiled at her warmly as Crowley started flipping the business cards on the desk display around.  
"Hello, we have a room reserved, and we are also here for the Pulsifer/Device Wedding." 

"Can I get your name?" The receptionist asked with a smile.

"Last name of Crowley." Aziraphale said shooting a smug look at a surprised Crowley next to him.

"Ah yes, for Anthony and Azira? Here are your room keys, you are in room 412, the Premium Suite Balcony. The wedding is in the Chartwell Ballroom, and it starts at four." She said sweetly handing Aziraphale the room keys and pointed at a little area on a guide map of the hotel.

"Thank you ever so much." Aziraphale said taking the room keys and grabbing his rolling suitcase handle and pulling it behind him.

Crowley attempted a smile at the receptionist, but it was still early and he was tired. He slung his little duffle bag over his shoulder and walked with Aziraphale toward the lift. 

They stepped onto the lift, and pressed the 4 button.  
"Anthony and Azira Crowley?" Crowley asked once the doors of the lift shut.

"Well they wanted a surname for the room." Aziraphale said simply pursing his lips.

"Why didn't you just use Fell like you do with the bookshop?" Crowley asked with a yawn. Aziraphale had wanted to arrive and check in six hours before the wedding for Someone knows why, making him lose a few hours of sleep.

"Wanted to, as they say, spice things up a bit." Aziraphale said with a slight wiggle.

Crowley snorted a laugh as the lift doors opened on floor 2 for another couple.

They silently rode the lift up to floor 4, as they did Crowley gazed at Aziraphale from behind his sunglasses. 

He was wearing a pair of khaki pants and the sweater that Anathema had knitted him for Christmas last year, her first attempt. It was a creamy colored sweater with a blue horizontal stripe along the middle. The sweater was very soft and warm, Crowley often stole it from Aziraphale in the winter to stay warm in their cottage when the heat was not working well enough to keep him comfortable.  
The sweater was very lovely looking on the angel, wrapping his large frame sweetly.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at Crowley as he caught the demon gulping slightly and smiling sheepishly.  
He smiled as he looked Crowley over in the elevator mirror, he was wearing his comfy house clothes because they had been in such a rush to leave and he had been asleep.  
He had on blue and black checkered house pants, black converse, and a black thermal long sleeved shirt.  
He hadn't had time to do much to his hair so it was thrown up in a messy half bun and his sunglasses perched on his nose hiding his beautiful amber eyes.

The lift bell dinged and the doors finally opened for floor 4.  
Crowley shuffled forward and Aziraphale followed as they made their way to their room.

Aziraphale screwed his face up as he fussed with the key, Crowley yawned impatiently as the door finally opened.

Aziraphale led the way into the room and he Crowley assessed their lodging.  
The room had a large bedroom with a super-king bed adorned with a mountain of pillows and a goose downed comforter in a fetching shade of baby blue.  
A walk-in closet was across from the bed, lit by florescent lights and a giant Rosdorf Park full length vanity mirror with lights surrounding the borders,  
A decadent marble finished bathroom was further into the room. Furnished with a claw foot bathtub with golden polished swan faucet and handles and a separate walk- in shower with marble tile and a sitting bench under a 10 inch Atlantis rainforest shower head.

A separate large living room was down the hall, furnished with a dining table for four, tea kettle, coffee maker with a complimentary basket of varieties of tea bags, coffee k-cups, creamers, sugar, and vouchers for breakfast down in the hotel dining area.

The room had a lovely balcony with a sweeping penthouse view over the terrace, overlooking the nearby Hyde Park and the city lights below. 

Aziraphale smiled widely as he took in all of the hotel room.

"This looks even better than they described over the phone!" He said as he started to unpack his suitcase and hang up, and put away his clothes and other items that he had brought with him.

"Yeah it's pretty nice, good job angel. " Crowley said tossing his duffle towards the direction of the walk in closet and plopped himself facedown onto the bed.

Crowley moaned as he burrowed his face into the plushness of the comforter and let his gangly limbs spread wide reaching as far as they could and still not meeting the edges of the bed.  
"This bed angel, it's almost as soft as you! Come lay here with me." Crowley said his voice muffled, still face down in the comforter and patted the bedding next to him, indicating to Aziraphale where he should lay.

"Really dear, the wedding is soon, we need to get ready." Aziraphale tutted as he placed his dress shoes at the base of the closet underneath where his dry cleaned suit hanged.

"It's not for another few hours. That's the perfect amount of time for a nap. Since my sleep was interrupted." Crowley said crossly.

Aziraphale chuckled, "Dearest, we wouldn't want to rush, besides we want to look our best for Anathema and Newton's wedding. Their families will be here and we want to make a good impression. After all they are planning on making us godparents to Aurelia once she arrives, and their families would want to make sure the baby will be in good hands." Aziraphale said as he unpacked his colognes and cuff links.

"Why are they even naming it Aurelia? It's going to be a boy." Crowley said smartly and he rolled over in an agonizingly slow movement. 

"Well one of Agnes' previous prophecies was for them to have a girl child." Aziraphale said matter of factly, closing the closet once he double checked that his clothes were hung up properly. The mirror on the door showing Crowley on the bed slithering about, Aziraphale smiled.

"That isn't what it said," Crowley argued sitting up, "it said that the descendants of her descendants would all be female, or something like that. But Newt isn't Agnes' descendant so with his luck he'd muck up that prophecy and Anathema will have twin boys. Just to spite Agnes." He waved his hands around as he spoke to emphasize his point, then flopped back face first onto the bed.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and took out their wedding gift and placed it on the desk sitting by the door.  
"I suppose we wont know until she has the baby." Aziraphale said with a little grin.

"BabIES." Crowley said, his voice muffled by the comforter.

Aziraphale laughed, "Well I am going to start filling the tub for you and I'll take a shower. That way we can both spruce up and be squeaky clean." Aziraphale said walking into the bathroom.  
"Oi! I don't like baths Angel, how about you take a nice long soak, enough to get really pruned and smelling of petunias, and then I'll hop in the shower in a bit." Crowley said flopping onto his back.

Aziraphale tutted but didn't argue.  
He turned the swan shaped gold colored handles of the tub and let the water start to fill the tub.  
He hummed to himself as he walked from the bathroom to the bedroom gathering his bath oils and robe. 

Noting that Crowley had fallen asleep on the bed, Aziraphale paused and smiled as he watched the slight rise and fall of his beloved's chest, his thin lips parting with each exhale. Feeling that flutter in his chest, he wanted to go and caress his dear one's face, but if he did that then it would lead to more touches and kisses and then they would definitely be late to the wedding.

Aziraphale poured some eucalyptus oils into the bath water and added a lavender bath bomb. As the bubbles fizzed, and flower petals floated, he undressed, neatly folding the lovely handmade sweater and his khakis and placing them on the counter top. He placed a the towels, and washcloths where he could reach them, as well as his soaps and body powder. He placed a pale green shower cap over his blonde curls, and gingerly climbed into the tub.

Though large, the tub was not quite wide enough for Aziraphale to fit, let alone wiggle about much. It was a tight squeeze for his generous corporation, but he was able to find a somewhat comfortable position amongst the bubbles and oils.  
He tried not to dwell on it and didn't feel the need to miracle the tub wider, as he was only going to only be in it for a little while. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the edge of the tub, listening to Crowley's little sleep sounds from the bed, and the slight ticking of the alarm he set to indicate when he should stop relaxing in the bath and start the maintenance washing.

Crowley woke up to a dinging sound, he grumbled as he slunk out of the bed to the bathroom where Aziraphale's alarm had gone off.

"Crowley! I am in the bath!" Aziraphale objected as the demon stumbled into the bathroom to turn off the alarm.  
The angel miracled more bubbles to appear in the tub waters to hide his bare form from Crowley.  
Though they had been more openly affectionate and together since the notpocolypse, they had yet to reveal their bare flesh to one another. Sure some kisses and hugging and holding, but that's the extent of what they had done.

"Angel your alarm went off, woke me from a lovely dream I was having, by the way," Crowley said grumpily.  
"I know you're in the bath, but I couldn't go on with that dinging a moment longer. Besides I promise I'm not peeking at anything without your permission, you know that." He added with a little sting to his voice.

He didn't want Aziraphale thinking this was a move to sneak a peek at him, though it would indeed be a heavenly peek, Crowley wasn't rushing the angel in that manner, nor was he anxious for that to happen himself either. Crowley didn't care if it took another 6000 years for more things besides kissing and cuddling, but they were on their own side now and that's all that mattered.

"I do know that dear, I'm sorry, just a nervous reaction." Aziraphale said remorseful of his protesting.

Crowley made a show of covering his eyes with his hands and blindly walking to the tub, he bent down to where Aziraphale's giggling was coming from, and kissed the Angel's forehead.

"I'm gonna wash up in the separate bathroom shower to give you privacy angel." He murmured to Aziraphale's shower capped curls. 

"Alright dear." Aziraphale said smiling back at Crowley, though the demon could not see it with his eyes still covered.

Crowley blindly found his way out of the bathroom, bumping into a few things and cursing as he did so.  
He sleepily unpacked some things from his bag and grabbed his hair products and heating elements. He wasn't entirely sure how he was going to dress for the wedding, but he brought all the hair care things to be prepared.  
He trudged into the other bathroom that connected through the walk in closet, and began laying out his mousses and curl enhancing creams, as well as his hair diffuser and face masks.

Crowley unceremoniously stripped out of his sleepy house clothes and snapped his fingers to miracle them to a drawer in the dresser.  
He started the water in the shower to let it get to the perfect temperature.  
As the water warmed he unbunned his hair and ran a comb through the wavy curls.  
Since armagedidnt he was relaxed enough to not fuck with his hair when he was stressed. It was now long enough to brush the tops of his shoulders. 

He surveyed his bare corporation in the mirror for a moment before he turned to the shower.  
The way he was standing he was holding himself as if he was unsure of where his limbs should be in order to appear naturally placed, arms dangling at his sides. Slender and wrapped in sinew, gangly with two large hands at the ends, knobby fingers twittering in the air restlessly. 

His torso was lean, not rail thin, but on the slender side of things, with just enough extra padding around his tummy to not look like a mangy Halloween skeleton that was shoved in a clearance bin.  
His chest was delicate, the beating of his heart felt through the slightest touch there.  
The scales that decorated parts of his chest, abdomen, and hips shined in the florescent lighting of the bathroom like glittering obsidian and rubies.  
He snorted at the scales, and raked his gaze up to his face, reached a hand up and gently touched where the lines in his forehead were deepening. Those eleven years of waiting for doomsday took a toll on his face, and his hair, and everything if he was being honest, still had nightmares sometimes if he was being really honest.  
He shook his head and raised an eyebrow at his reflection. His cheek bones prominent, his chin pointed, his nose sharp and arrogant casting the slightest shadow over his thin lips.  
He groaned at himself and loped to the shower to try and scrub off some of the demonic self hate he exuded. He didn’t necessarily hate himself, just didn’t like that he was a demon, or that his scales and eyes marked him as such.  
He didn't feel like wearing his face tonight, not his body either. 

As he showered he could hear the faint "bum bum bum"ing of Aziraphale as he continued to get ready, presumably done with his bubble bath since the humming was coming from the bedroom area.  
Crowley smiled as he imagined his angel tittering about getting dressed and ready for the wedding. Aziraphale had hidden his outfit for the wedding from Crowley, wanted to surprise him with his event wear. Crowley laughed imagining a tartan suit, of course the angel wasn't that much of a fashion disaster, at least he hoped not.

Aziraphale was practically bouncing with excitement for the wedding, and to show off his new tailcoat and pants to Crowley. He had got it from a vintage store just outside of SoHo and he thought it would be perfect for the wedding, he knew especially that Anathema would like it.  
He tugged it down a bit and fiddled with the buttons down the front, and then he looked at his reflection to make sure it didn't have any lint or fuzz on it. As he turned and looked at his reflection he could hear the sounds of hair care product jars and sprays clinking together with a muffled "fuck" from Crowley and the hair diffuser turning on high.

The suit was a navy shade of blue with velvet braided embellishments in black along the entirety of the suit. The suit jacket was long and ended down at the knee.  
Seven golden buttons ran down the front of the coat, with matching sets of two at the sleeve cuffs. An inner breast pocket concealing a handkerchief he was sure Crowley would need during the vows.

Underneath he wore his white ruffled shirt from 1793, preserved by miracles in his closet until a time presented itself to wear again.  
The ruffles at the neck and cuffs were ancient lace, still gleaming white as the day he was locked up in the Bastille.  
The ruffled shirt not surprisingly was a bit more snug than the last time he wore it, but it was not noticeable under the tailcoat. The secondhand tailcoat seemed to belong to someone a bit less round than Aziraphale, being slightly snug as well, but not terribly so.

The delicate designs in the lace of flowers and stars still made him smile, Crowley had never caught onto those little hints in his clothes that his heart belonged to Crowley;  
Not the lace ruffles of this shirt, not the particular tartan colors and patterns, not the stitching in his velvet vest, not the embroidery on his handkerchief, and not even his colorful orange socks with aardvarks decorating the tops that he wore for several years. 

He turned to make sure the trousers were buttoned along the sides.  
The trousers were a navy blue to match the tailcoat, they also had seven golden buttons on the outer leg to make ease of wearing footwear.  
The pant legs were billowy and comfortable and a soft material. They were just long enough to sit below Aziraphale's generous belly, settling comfortably on his slightly round hips.  
The pant legs were buttoned along the sides enough to show off the shoes Aziraphale had gotten out of his closet for the event.  
He posed his foot in a tiptoe fashion to get a better look at the shoes, a pair of black leather Rococo Brocade heels, golden lace embellishments swirled around the shoe, and big satin navy blue bows decorated the tops.

Aziraphale smiled and reached up to adjust his citrine brooch that rested at the top of the ruffles at his neck.  
Though the colors of his ensemble were not his usual style, he wanted to surprise Crowley, and the blue did bring out his eyes more, hopefully Crowley liked the ensemble as much as Aziraphale liked it. Hopefully he liked how Aziraphale looked in it as much as he liked how he looked.

Aziraphale reached up to place a loose blonde curl back in its proper place and surveyed his reflection.  
He carefully traced the delicate crow's feet that surrounded his eyes. They would deepen when he smiled, and crinkled when he laughed.  
He noted the lines on his forehead, they usually appeared when he was worried, oh how they'd deepen around the time the apocalypse was supposed to occur. He was surprised they didn’t make permanent track marks there.  
Thankfully they don't appear as often as they did, their ghosts painted on his forehead like past regrets.

He glanced at his lips, and frowned they appeared to be a bit dry, the plump lower lip a bit tattered looking from him biting them when he is anxious, he went to his bag and brought out a lip balm he would use when he thought of it, coconut scented and promises of hydrating and locking in moisture to his lips.  
He applied a swipe to his top lip also, though it didn't seem as ragged, he puckered his lips and inspected them.

His top lip was just as plump as his bottom, curved in a swooping cupid's bow, but close together, somewhat sharp, the sharpest part of the Angel's curving round form.  
It didn't match his bottom lip, and didn't match the rest of him. He sighed and tried to ignore his mismatched parts, not matching with himself, not matching with other Angels, even with Crowley he didn't match. Complete opposites, frankly sometimes he didn't see why Crowley seemed so enamored with him at times. But he was grateful and thankful for his friend, his dear, his beloved.

"My dear, are you about ready?" Aziraphale called to Crowley as he placed the lip balm away.

"Just about angel! I'm in the walk in! No peeking!" Crowley shouted back.

Aziraphale gave a tittered laugh as he walked from the bathroom to the bedroom, he could see flurries of movement in the walk in closet, but he would oblige Crowley and not peek.

Crowley muttered to himself as he kept pacing from the big full length mirror with the lights all around, to his duffle bag sitting on the bathroom counter. He reached a hand in the bag and dug through it to find the right shade he wanted.  
Growling to himself he dumped the duffle out onto the bathroom counter and quickly sorted it out, creams with creams, nail polish with nail polish etcetera etcetera. 

He gingerly grabbed a small but heavy, clumsy object from the pile he had upended onto the counter and unwrapped it from the miracle ladened cloth that he had to protect it from breaking. He smiled warmly at the carousel music box, made of blue marble with white daisies painted on the sides and top. Crowley gently turned the wind at the bottom and placed the music box on the bathroom counter, and he rested his chin on his crossed arms that rested on the counter.  
The tinkling of music played in the air as the golden doors on the sides opened and fanned outward revealing compartments filled with four different shades of lipstick.

Crowley let out a small sigh as he twirled the doors of the carousel box around gently. Which shade to wear? which would look best with the outfit he picked? which would Aziraphale like best? Which would he like wearing best?  
He glanced at the outfit he had chosen for tonight again and exhaled as he rose from his slouch and walked back to the hanging outfit. 

He untied and tossed away the bath towel that wrapped around his waist, then reached up and took the outfit off the hanger and stepped into it, feeling the cool material against his skin.  
He pulled the top part up and slipped his arms into the long sleeves and reached behind him to zip up the back, careful not to zip his hair into the zipper.  
He looked at his reflection and appraised his outfit, unsatisfied with how it was falling on him, he snapped his fingers to make the dress fit his form better.

The ankle length black dress was covered in sparkling sequins that looked like stars woven into the black material wrapping around his slender body.  
The dress had a single thigh high slit up one side, revealing one long leg beneath, and peeking at the other hiding under the silky material, and showing off his heels. A nice pair of Louboutins, particularly the Follies Lace pump, with lace-covered tulle.

The sleeves of the dress were tight fitting and at the wrists they slightly billowed out to showcase any bracelets he may or may not wear, he wasn't much one for bracelets, tended to slide all the way up his scrawny arms or down off his wrists.  
The curved V cut of the dress revealed Crowley's décolletage, his collar bones jutting slightly from his birdlike chest. The material of the dress, thanks to his demonic miracle, clinged to his chest and accentuated how lithe and narrow his body was, how delicate he looked, how damsel in distress he could seem if he wanted.  
But he wasn't a damsel, and he wasn't in distress, and he was almost ready for the wedding.

He sauntered back to the bathroom counter and appraised his appearance in that mirror.  
He narrowed his eyes at the way his hair was sitting, he brushed the curls to one side, added some curl defining gel, and pinned them in place more securely with a set of sparkly pins.

Then he sorted through the makeup on the counter and applied some eye cream to the bags under his eyes, applied some concealer around the lines on his face.  
Patting the creams in with the makeup sponge he watched as the lines smoothed out, the crevices of his face, the history of his face soften, not appear so harsh and gaunt.

He applied foundation and just a smidge of shading, then started in on his eyes, this was the tricky part of the makeup because it was so easy to muck up. He contemplated not even bothering because he would be wearing his sunglasses anyway, hiding his grotesque eyes from the unsuspecting wedding patrons.  
He heard Aziraphale humming in the other room and growled under his breath, "Fuck it, might as well go all out." And began applying eyeliner as carefully as he could. 

Though he could miracle it on straight, he enjoyed the delicate motions of performing it the human way. His mouth popped open in an O shape, amber eyes wide open he gently, so not to slip and poke himself in the eye, traced a dark line on his upper eyelid, he repeated this motion until he was satisfied with the thickness and darkness of the line, he then repeated the motion to make his other eye match.

Once he was satisfied with that, he grabbed his mascara and applied the black goop, until his eyelashes were as elongated, highlighted, and plump as the mascara promised they'd be.  
He grabbed the eyelash curler and carefully pinched the lashes between the teeth of the odd little device.

He went through the painstaking process of applying a glittery light brown shade of eyeshadow to his eyelids and then made sure they wouldn't smudge and then started to work on his lips.

As Aziraphale waited for Crowley to finish up he was trying to decide which of the colognes he had brought would match the scent of the bath oils that still lingered on his skin. The eucalyptus was more minty and honey than pine this go around, and the lavender vapors were just barely there in the undertones. Not wanting to be a potpourri of mismatched scents he gave a slight sniff to the different colognes he brought and finally settled on one.  
He dabbed just the lightest brush of the vetiver cologne on his wrists and at the base of his throat, hopefully this wouldn't be an assault to Crowley's senses.

"Are you almost ready dear? The wedding starts in, just about an hour." Aziraphale asked Crowley as politely as he could, biting his lower lip, trying not to fret.  
This is precisely why they arrived so early, he knew they both could take ages getting ready, even if Crowley didn't like to admit it, always called Aziraphale sexist when he brought it up.  
Aziraphale began to fuss with the ribbon curls on the present for Newt and Anathema, when Crowley didn't respond. He tried to tighten the curls a bit when he heard a rustling of fabric approaching.  
"Angel be sure to..." Crowley began to say, his voice faltering to a stop the moment he stepped over the threshold of the room and caught sight of Aziraphale. 

"Oh thank the stars I thought we were going to be," Aziraphale started to say as he turned towards Crowley, but stopped midsentence when he laid eyes upon his friend.

"Aziraphale, you look...." Crowley began, but faltered, he felt a blush creeping across his face, enhancing the rouge he had scantily applied to his gaunt cheeks.  
He tried to think of a way to describe how the angel looked; beautiful, dashing, debonair, the most wondrous lovely creature in all of London, in all the world.

The blue of his outfit made the blue in his eyes radiant, sparkling with mirth, the most beautiful shade of blue Crowley had ever seen. Galaxies in the cosmos, the depths of the seas, the tint of violets, nothing in creation, compared to those eyes.

He smiled as he recognized the shirt Aziraphale wore, the one he wore when Crowley rescued him from the guillotine friendly mob at the Bastille in Paris. 

His blush deepened as he noticed how the Angel's tailcoat hugged his generous form so lovingly, caressed his skin so softly, how it wrapped around him; emphasizing and embracing the swooping curves of his sides, how it enveloped the roundness of his tummy, the width of his shoulders, how it added a shroud of protection around his being. Crowley shook his head slightly and blinked back to reality, realizing how jealous he was becoming over a dammed jacket.

Aziraphale tried to finish his sentence as he appraised Crowley's appearance. He was struck wordless, at the vision that was standing before him.

His black shimmering gown cloaked Crowley in sparkling starlight, cut to show off his elegant slender form. His curling flaming locks held to frame one side of his face with gold antique hairpins encrusted with glittering jewels. Almost a perfect match for the necklace that draped around his swan like neck, except it had a trail of sapphires leading to his delicate décolletage, rising and falling around the graceful slopes of his collar bones.

His lips were painted with a deep red lipstick, outlined perfectly, making them appear slightly plumper than they usually were. His eyes outlined and the amber tones of them enhanced, surrounded by thick eyelashes, visible only because he was not yet wearing his sunglasses to hide them.

"You look bloody great." Crowley sputtered out after trying to come up with the perfect description for how Aziraphale looked. But that still didn't cut it really, he had cocked it up, but 'bloody great' seemed to pass for a good compliment by Aziraphale because he grinned.  
But the way Aziraphale looked, Crowley wanted to compose sonnets for him, fill up entire books with sonnets for him, fill up the bookshop with books full of sonnets about him.

"You look simply stunning my dear." Aziraphale said offering a plump hand to Crowley, who smiled and took it, giving a twirl and ducking under their clasped hands as he stepped closer.

"Are we all ready to go then?" Crowley asked grinning as he carefully, so not to smudge anything, slid a delicate pair of dark sunglasses on the bridge of his arrogant nose, to hide his eyes from unsuspecting guests.  
Aziraphale smiled realizing they were the pair he wore at the Globe Theater, small and dainty, perfect comparison for his outfit.

"Indeed, let's get a wiggle on." Aziraphale said smirking, knowing how much Crowley detested that term.  
Crowley sneered at Aziraphale and grabbed the gift for the newlyweds.  
Aziraphale held the door for Crowley and after they exited pressed the button to summon the lift. 

Once it arrived the pair stepped onto it and tried not to show how nervous they were to be meeting all of these extended family members of the pair they had come to regard as family of their own.  
Aziraphale kept fiddling with his brooch and Crowley kept playing with the ribbon curls of the present. 

"Please don't muss those up, I just got them perfectly coiled." Aziraphale protested as, after gazing smitten at Crowley, caught on to what he was doing.

Crowley barked nervous laugh and handed it over to Aziraphale, then pulled at his dress.  
"Is, Is this too much angel? Should I change into something more, ah traditional?" Crowley asked with hesitation. He wasn't one for speaking his insecurities aloud, especially not to Aziraphale, but he was letting his nerves get the best of him.

Aziraphale's brows knitted together earnestly as he looked at Crowley, at his beautiful dear friend, and felt his heart twist at him questioning himself. Aziraphale thought a moment, looked up above the lift doors, and then back to Crowley.  
He bit his bottom lip and then exhaled slowly, working up his nerve.

"My dear, you are far from too much, why, I'm afraid there isn't enough of you to go around."  
Aziraphale said gently, carefully keeping his gazed focused away from Crowley.

"I, uh, isn't, ah, Ngk." Crowley stuttered out as a first response to what Aziraphale had said. He felt a heat in his cheeks flare and he darted his gaze from his dress to Aziraphale which made his blush turn into a raging inferno.

Aziraphale smiled a bit to himself, ducking his chin as he felt his cheeks heat with Crowley's reaction.

Crowley inhaled sharply and raised a hand, to what? To touch Aziraphale? To run the luxurious material of his fancy blue outfit through his knobby fingers? To place a hand on the Angel's shoulder and just leave it there? To run his fingers through those golden curls? Or to just flail around like a limp baguette?

As he started to reach towards Aziraphale the doors to the lift opened and Aziraphale quickly stepped past the threshold of the doors and off the lift. Leaving Crowley's slender hand hanging in midair not connecting to anything and hanging in the air for a moment, black nail polish catching the light making the glitter topcoat of polish sparkle. 

Aziraphale turned slightly once off the lift his shimmering eyes catching Crowley's and asked, "are you coming dear?"

Crowley shook his head slightly and followed Aziraphale off the lift and fell in step next to him as they followed the fancy signs leading them to the Chartwell Ballroom where the ceremony would be held.

"Oh this is utterly enchanting." Aziraphale said in a delighted breathy voice as he caught the first glimpse of the ballroom.  
Crowley looked at the decorations, they were pretty and all, the lovebirds seemed to have good taste.  
His gaze flicked back to Aziraphale and he smiled warmly, drinking in the face of his angel lit by the utterly enchanting lights.

There was a canopy of white twinkling lights and streams of white tulle that formed a meeting in the center of the room at a large candlelit chandelier.  
The chairs sitting in the ballroom all decorated with white bows faced the front, more white twinkling lights roping off the aisles along the chairs, leading to the front where Newt was talking to The Them, all of them in matching dark purple outfits. Pepper had forgone a dress, and was wearing a dark purple dress shirt and black pants like the rest of The Them, instead of a dark rose boutonniere like the boys she had a crown of flowers balanced precariously on her head. A mix of different shades of purple ranging from light lavender to dark mauve.

Warlock, the newest addition to The Them, was laughing at something Newt had said and was waving his hands excitedly around to emphasize something he was saying, and then jumped out of the way when the flower girl ran past with her frilly dress bouncing as she went.  
Pepper rolled her eyes at the girl and started ranting about something to the group.

Crowley and Aziraphale looked at more of the decorations, the twinkling lights and white ribbons offset the dark red and dark purple flowers that decorated the outskirts of the rows of chairs.  
At the front where the vows would take place there was an arch for them to stand under made of string lights wrapped in translucent white fabric with flowers twined in the corners that lit up the entire area.

Aziraphale smiled and turned to Crowley who was looking at the flowers intently squinting slightly behind his sunglasses.

"What kinds are they dear?" Aziraphale asked him smiling.

Crowley looked a bit startled and sheepishly grinned and looked at Aziraphale, leaning closer to him he pointed to one bundle of flower decor with a pointed black polished finger, "Those are calla lilies, which are meant to symbolize magnificence and beauty," he paused and pointed to another batch.

"And those, are oof, black dahlias, which have a general meaning of betrayal and sadness, but I bet that one was a Newt pick because he felt it would match Anathema and her spooky aura. Dahlias in general symbolize many things, elegance, inner strength, dignity." Crowley said a little chuckle in his voice.

"Spooky aura?" Aziraphale question with a laugh.

"You wonder how Anathema and I get along so well." Crowley said raising an eyebrow and giving a smirk. 

"Big spooky fan you." Aziraphale said with a laugh.

Crowley smiled at Aziraphale and felt a warmth travel through his veins.  
His eyes broke from looking at Aziraphale to seeing people milling about finding their places.  
Aziraphale saw his gaze wander and noticed the people shuffling and sitting down. 

"We had better go to our seats dear, we don't want to miss anything." Aziraphale said smiling, grabbing Crowley's hand in his and leading him towards the chairs in the audience, and stopped short.

"Ah, where, should we sit?" Aziraphale asked, looking up at Crowley with a small pout.

Crowley looked at the seats, he noticed Newt's mum on one side, and who must have been Anathema's mum on the other, same face structure and posture as their friend.  
Her side was full of posh people, all the women had the same mouth and nose, similar hair colors but it ranged from dark black to white across the four rows, all of them dressed to the nines for the wedding.  
The men on the other hand were all in dapper suits and tuxedos, all in various shades, black, maroon, dark blue, dark green, all with impeccable hairstyles, and some with well groomed facial hair.

Then he looked at Newt's side, the chairs equal in amount to Anathema's but instead of brimming with people, there were two occupants in the chairs.  
A slightly older woman who must be Newt's mother, she was already teary eyed but laughing, and the wedding hadn’t even started yet.  
She had the same smile as Newt, genuine and kind, though a bit apprehensive.  
Short and pleasantly plump, she wore a deep burgundy dress with beading and lace around the sleeves. Her hair was a rich auburn and it was up in a bun atop her head. 

The other a man who sat next to her was seemingly a few years younger than her and grinning as he whispered something in her ear. He looked like an older version of Newt, dark curls, pale, tall, gangly, he wore a matching burgundy suit and had his arm slung around the woman's shoulders. 

All the other chairs were empty.

"Let's go sit with Newt's family, his side could use some filling." Crowley said assured that it wouldn't be a mistake in them sitting there.

They meandered over to the row behind Newt's family and sat down midway through the row. Crowley sat on the left and Aziraphale on the right.  
They sat for barely a moment before the woman turned to them.

"Hello! You must be Aziraphale and Crowley! I'm Newton's mother Roberta, and this is his uncle Sal. We've, well I've heard so much about you two from Newt." She said smiling warmly and extending a hand.

Aziraphale smiled at Roberta and gave her hand a gentle shake, she then extended her hand to Crowley who gave it a small squeeze.

"Newt is so nervous." She said to the pair, half turned in her seat to face them better.

"Oh the poor dear, he shouldn't be, Anathema quite adores him." Aziraphale said lacing his fingers together and resting his hands on his relaxed belly.

"I've told him the same thing, but he is just a bit blind to it, or has some self denial about it he says, the poor lamb." She said with her eyebrows knitted together and glancing at Newt, who was now fiddling with the strings of his sleeve cuffs.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at the groom's outfit, but knew it must have been something Anathema had chosen for him to wear, or at least highly emphasized that she would like him to wear it. Anything to get him away from the idea of the awful suit that had computer keyboard keys all over the front of it.

What he did end up wearing, though out of his usual style, was quite nice. It was a long sleeved puffy shirt, the color was a shade off of white, and the neckline and sleeves both had crisscross laces up them. His pants were simply black and slightly puffy with four large black buttons on each side of his narrow waist.  
His hair was starting to become out of place, his dark curls mussed from his fingers taking through them from nerves.  
Newt had moved from talking with the Them, who were now nowhere to be seen, and was now standing at the front talking with Sergeant Shadwell, the groom's best man for the ceremony. The officiant was standing at a pulpit looking through her notes.

Sergeant Shadwell was gesturing somewhat dramatically reaching for the sgian dubh he wore. Judging by Newt's reaction he was explaining that the Sergeant didn’t need to wield it at Anathema's female relative who had just walked past in a garish dark burgundy Victorian dress. Newt's words must have calmed Sergeant Shadwell, because his hand came away from the small single edged knife and went to adjust the placement of his sporran, the small bag now hanging with the right side facing outward. Crowley thought he could hear the mutterings of the old man from here, something about noting to ask the woman how many nipples she had, judging by Newt's horrified expression Crowley had heard correctly.

Sergeant Shadwell actually looked pretty well put together in his traditional Scottish wedding attire, that seemed either new to wear, or had been previously preserved for a special occasion that never had arose since the ownership of said attire. Which included a black bonnie Prince Charlie jacket and waistcoat, kilt of a dark red tartan to match the flowers, white hose with a newly shined pair of leather ghillie, and a winged collared shirt. 

Newt was now trying to stand still in front of Sergeant Shadwell, who was trying to pin a piece of lucky heather on the front of Newt's puffy shirt collar, so they could match, plus have a bit of luck for the ceremony, but shaky arthritic fingers were making it difficult. Once the heather was pinned properly Sergeant Shadwell leaned back a bit surveying his work. He seemed a bit misty eyed and clapped Newt on the shoulder with a heaping WHUMP, causing the groom to teeter off balanced for a moment.

Crowley stifled a giggle before turning his face into Aziraphale's shoulder to giggle some more. The side of his face pressing against the soft shoulder of the angel, his chin tilted downward.  
He felt Aziraphale turn his head to look at him, causing the velvety material of the tailcoat to bunch up, and the scent of the vetiver cologne waft to his nostrils.  
The tendrils of the fragrance danced through Crowley's senses, and he closed his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to just nuzzle his face into the side of Aziraphale's soft neck, his sweet fold where his double chin began, and deeply inhale the vapors of his perfumes until the scent wore off, he wanted to kiss his neck until his lipstick wore off.

Aziraphale chuckled as he looked at Crowley, whose face was carefully tucked at the top of his shoulder, he turned to look up at Aziraphale, his grin still broad on his face.  
Aziraphale smiled, a warmth filling him to the brim.  
Crowley had been more freely, happy, since the Notpocolypse. Before he was always so nervous, so scared, truth be told they both were.  
But now, they didn't have to be scared anymore.

Aziraphale smiled down at Crowley whose cheek was pressed against his shoulder and his face was now turned up to Aziraphale, his amber eyes peeking over the lenses of the sunglasses. Eyes fully soothing and serene, like he had just woken up from a good dream.  
Aziraphale had the sudden urge to lean slightly and give Crowley a kiss on the forehead. Humming to himself and leaning slightly, he simultaneously stretched his neck and pressed his plump puckered lips to Crowley's cool skin.

Crowley immediately short circuited when Aziraphale's lips pressed against his forehead. His eyes simultaneously wanted to close and enjoy the feeling of small electric zaps going through him, and stay wide open to fill his gaze with that of the beautiful angel on his arm.  
His eyes compromised and did a half lidded look, half closed and making him sweetly cozy.  
"Aziraphale..." he murmured, wanting to express every good feeling and thought he was having in that moment. 

Suddenly the lighting dimmed just slightly, and the first sounds of music filled the ballroom.  
Aziraphale turned his head to the back of the room as Crowley gently slid himself off of the Angel's shoulder and looked toward the back.

Madame Tracy was standing at the end of the aisle wearing a beautiful mauve dress with brash flowers decorating the satin material. Her soft slightly graying blonde hair was curled, and a crown of flowers just like Pepper's was topping her ensemble.  
Her hands clasped together in front of her she walked down the aisle, beaming at Newt who noticeably gulped.

Her gaze shifted to Sergeant Shadwell and her expression softened even more so.  
Sergeant Shadwell's jaw dropped, and his flinty gray eyes went shiny and wide as he gazed on the vision that was Madame Tracy. He didn't even try to hide his gestures as he ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his kilt.  
He leaned over to say something to Newt, and the younger man blushed and leaned away from Sergeant Shadwell with a slight blush in his own cheeks. 

Crowley glanced at Aziraphale whose eyes were already looking a bit watery, and smiled to himself. 

Once Madame Tracy reached the front of the aisle she placed a quick peck on Sergeant Shadwell's cheek and went to the opposite side of the altar.

Everyone's gazes went to the end of the aisle where Adam, Warlock, Brian, Wensleydale, and Pepper and Andromeda, Anathema's niece, walked down the aisle in pairs.  
Andromeda was flouncing down the aisle and tossing flower petals onto the aisle runner.  
All six of the children were grinning wildly, just as excited as the almost-newlyweds.

Once the children were all in their places at the front of the aisle everyone rose and turned towards the end of the aisle, awaiting the bride, the lights dimmed slightly, only illuminated by the white twinkling lights guiding the way up the aisle, and the twinkling lights above them. Making the ballroom look like a fairy village.  
As a few sweet musical notes of melody filled the air, Anathema walked into view at the end of the aisle. 

Aziraphale beamed as his friend began walking up the aisle slowly, he felt the slightest prickling of tears, and he turned to Crowley, who was sure enough already steadily leaking from the eyes.  
Aziraphale smiled and reached for his handkerchief, silently passing it to him.

Crowley sniffed as Anathema began walking up the aisle, he was already tearing up, he threw up a quick miracle so his eye makeup wouldn't smudge, and then let the tears fall.  
As he began reaching for a tissue Aziraphale's plump hand appeared with a handkerchief, an offering to Crowley.  
Crowley gave a sheepish smile and accepted the hankie and dabbed at his eyes, then looked back to the lovely vision that was Anathema soon to be Device-Pulsifer.

She was wearing a beautiful Victorian cream colored floor length draped wedding gown.  
The collar left a beautiful intricate pattern that cut into a diamond shape over Anathema's décolletage, the top point trailing upward to the high neck collar that decorated her throat.  
The sleeves were a sheer material with long fitted cuffs that were home to more lace, beautifully patterned from the crook of Anathema's arms to her wrists. The waistline of the dress was fitted closely to her form, and held in front of her waist in her hands, she held a beautiful bouquet of dark roses, blood-red calla lilies, black feathers, and black dahlias.  
She tried to hide the smile on her face, but she was glowing, her eyes bright behind her glasses. Her hair, free of it's usual topknot, was loose, the waves of mahogany rolling down her shoulders and back underneath a lace Juliet cap veil that trailed down her back stopping just short of where her train began.

As she walked she was looking at Newt at the end of the aisle, who was trying to hold back his own tears, his eyes were shining with moisture and his mouth was set in a smile that wavered close to sobbing.

"Oh look at them." Aziraphale said with a sweet sigh in Crowley's ear.  
Crowley nodded and dabbed at his tears and sniffed trying to keep them all at bay.

Once Anathema reached Newt at the end of the aisle she stood in front of him for a moment, he reached for her forearms and pulled her close, pressing a kiss on her forehead. 

The officiant seeing this came from behind the pulpit and swatting her hands at the couple went, "Oi! You aren’t supposed to kiss her yet! That's the grand finale! You just gave away the ending!"  
The couple laughed along with the guests.  
"Sorry," Newt stuttered a bit then laughed and added, "but if you all didn't know I was going to kiss her then you may all be mad. To be honest I couldn't stand another overjoyed moment of NOT kissing my beautiful bride. I promise all other kisses will wait until our cues." Newt said blushing madly.

Anathema giggled and looking up to see the officiant making a half amused half annoyed face promptly sidestepped to where she was supposed to stand. Newt shot her another smile before he too sidestepped to his place.

"You may all be seated as we start the ceremony." The officiant announced after moving back to the pulpit.

All the guests took their seats, and Crowley glanced at Aziraphale with a smirk, and leaned in to whisper to him.  
"Knew he wouldn’t be able to resist kissing her beforehand, you owe me a quid."  
Aziraphale chuckled and said, "I'm a bit short, will this cover it?" He leaned to his left and gave Crowley a peck on the cheek.  
Crowley's cheeks immediately turned a shade of scarlet and he pressed his fingertips to his cheek, wanting to preserve the kiss there for eternity. Wanted to miracle up a weather resistant plastic seal over that kiss.

Aziraphale chuckled again and reached for Crowley's hand, pulling it gently from his cheek to the breadth of space where their legs pressed together from such close seating. Aziraphale's plump warm hand held Crowley's slender cool one, mixing their collected temperatures into a steaming warm.

Crowley was going to combust he felt it, his heart pounding sweetly under his ribcage, booming so loudly he was afraid the vows being spoken up front would be drowned out, and Anathema's family would have travelled all the way here just to hear Crowley's heart going BOOM BA DOOM BOOM BA DOOM repetitively.  
Not that he would give any sort of a care, his thoughts were more focused on Aziraphale's hand, still encased around his own.

Aziraphale absentmindedly began running his thumb along Crowley's thumb and the edge of his palm.  
His gaze flitted from the altar where the officiant was giving the Expression of Intent and introduction for the hand fasting ceremony, then to Crowley, who was blushing as crimson as his hair now. Aziraphale smiled to himself, he loved his demon when he became flustered, it was endearing and sweet.  
Aziraphale sighed happily and leaned to rest his head on Crowley's pointed shoulder, wiggling happily as he adjusted his seating, and full out grinning happily when he heard Crowley's sharp intake of breath. Even though he was watching the hand fasting ceremony sideways, Crowley's reaction made it much more special.

Crowley stiffened slightly when Aziraphale rested his head on his shoulder, taken by surprise, especially since their hands were still entwined. He felt Aziraphale smile and felt him wiggle in his seat. He blushed more than he had been, making his face hot with fire.  
Damn this glorious bastard angel.

Crowley chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to Aziraphale's sideways forehead, muttering, "Bastard." To him in hushed tones so not to rouse the other guests.  
Aziraphale gave a giggle, and squeezed Crowley's hand, and then stifled his urges to continue making Crowley blush.

At the altar the officiant was holding different colored chords in front of Newt and Anathema's as she said, "Above you are stars and below you is earth. Like stars your love should be a constant source of light, and like the earth, a firm foundation from which to grow."

She paused a moment, and Crowley leaned down to whisper along in Aziraphale's ear, "May these hands be blessed this day," he paused raising Aziraphale's hand up and pressed his lips to the soft plump hand that he held in his own.

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley mesmerized, as Crowley murmured the words to him as the officiant said them at the front as she wrapped the blue, green, and purple chords around the betrothed couples hands, with each line he would pause, and gently place a kiss on Aziraphale's hand, his lips warm, the touch of them soft like rose petals, leaving little red lipstick marks on Aziraphale's hand where he kissed it.

"May they always hold each other," a kiss on the dimpled knuckle of his thumb.  
"May they have the strength to hang on during the storms of stress and the dark of disillusionment," a kiss on the top of his hand.  
"May they remain tender and gentle as they nurture each other in their wondrous love," a kiss on his smallest finger's nail.  
"May these hands be healer, protector, shelter, and guide for each other." A kiss at the pulse point of his inner wrist, a lingering kiss that didn't want to disconnect from angelic flesh.

Aziraphale could feel himself blushing now, at least three shades of red darker than Crowley had been just moments ago.  
His heart was beating quickly, like hummingbird wings, quickly so not to lose this place in time. Aziraphale did not want to lose this spot, this moment, this place in time. 

Aziraphale turned slightly to look up at Crowley, as Crowley simultaneously looked downward at Aziraphale.  
They both had the urge to reach toward the other and place a stolen kiss where their lips parted, where the upturn of a smile quirked up, where a pout would form, where a tremble would take place.

"I will now ask you to seal the vows you share with each other by the giving and receiving of rings!"  
The officiant's voice boomed through the microphone, seemingly more static-y than before causing a squeal from the feed.  
Crowley's eyes squinted and his lips curled in a snarl, his teeth baring slightly.  
Aziraphale unclasped Crowley's hand and covered his mouth quickly to keep the surprised laughter from interrupting the ceremony, Crowley's wrath wasn't usually something to laugh at, but at this present moment he reminded Aziraphale of an angry looking fluffy puppy that Crowley had previously shown him on his cellular device.

Aziraphale sat up straight, as he tried to stifle his giggles, Crowley pouted, his thin red lips poofing outward, his brow furrowing.  
"Why does this amuse you so much angel? Is it better than your perch on my shoulder?" Crowley leaned closely and whispered to Aziraphale.  
Aziraphale felt tears prickling his eyes he was trying to suffocate his laughter with such difficulty.  
He closed his eyes and took in a couple shaky breathe.  
"The look on your face when the microphone feedback sounded, was the look that small fluffy canine had in that me-me you showed me." Aziraphale choked out between giggles.  
An amused look began to cresten on Crowley's face and he started laughing, burting out of him like confetti canons, his laughter much louder than Aziraphale's, Crowley was not even bothering to cover his mouth.

The pair kept giggling and laughing until some people in the crowd began to turn away from the ceremony and to seek out the unruly persons laughing at such a momentous occasion, mainly some people from Anathema's side.

Crowley noticed a couple of them staring and he began to stifle his laughter. Aziraphale, noticing Crowley's slowing laughter, glanced up and saw Anathema's Uncle Ramos and Aunt Arindetta looking at him and Crowley, he gave a sheepish smile to them while trying to calm his laughter. Anathema had mentioned them before and that they lived locally, he had discussed with Crowley about inviting them over for tea sometime.

Ramos sneered at Aziraphale, and leaned and whispered something to Arindetta, who then looked Aziraphale up and down quickly and matched Ramos' sneer.  
The pair turned away from the angel focusing their attention to the vows being voiced. 

Aziraphale felt his brows knit together, and felt the smile slowly dissolve off of his face, and giggles stop short.  
He pursed his lips, not sure of why their sneers had made him feel a wrench in his chest.  
He missed his usual attire just then, missed the watch fob he could run end over end between his forefinger and thumb, missed the buttons on his waistcoat he could turn round and til it began to loosen and fray off the coat, then he'd miracle it back to tiptop condition. He missed tugging on the material of the coat, missed its thick, soft, heaviness against him, the heaviness that could always weigh him into calmness once he was able to quiet his brain.  
He missed being able to pull on the ends of his bowtie and twiddle it in place.

Aziraphale's hands raised up momentarily, as if forgetting that he didn't have his usual means to fidget. His hands stayed upright for a moment before fluttering in place, his pudgy fingers a twittering cascade.  
Crowley seeing this raised an eyebrow and reached over. His long hand encircling Aziraphale's plump one.  
Aziraphale started slightly, surprised, as if he had been in a trance.  
He glanced at his hand, clasped in Crowley's, and gave his companion a smile.

The pair turned their attention back to the front, where the officiant was now giving the ring palaver.

"The perfect circle of the ring symbolizes eternity. The precious metal came from the ground as a rough ore and was heated and purified, shaped and polished. Something beautiful was made from raw elements. Love is like that. It comes from humble beginnings, made by imperfect beings. It is the process of making something beautiful where there was once nothing at all. Newton, please face Anathema, and take her unfastened hand in your unfastened hand."

Newt and Anathema turned to face each other, holding their unfastened hands together, Anathema's smile pure and wide, shining and sparkling like starlight lighting up a dark night.  
Newt smiled back, pure and bright like the sunlight on a cloudy day finally bursting through a cloud.

"Newton please repeat these vows after me, I, Newton Pulsifer, take you Anathema."

"I, Newton Pulsifer, take you Anathema." Newt said, his voice soft.

"As you say these next vows you will slide the ring upon her finger." The officiant stated and continued. "To be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and hold in times of difficulty and ease, in times of joy and pain, and in times of happiness and sorrow, and in times of illness and prosperity."

"As I say these next vows I will slide the ring upon her finger." Newt repeated holding the ring up to her ready hand.  
Realizing he had spoken that guiding prompt outloud a red blush immediately spreading onto his face.

The guests laughed, and Newt almost dropped the ring before he could slide it on Anathema's finger.  
Ahe smiled sweetly at him and got in her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the side of his jaw.

"Hey we're almost to the end! Hold off on the kisses!" The officiant exclaimed crossly.

Anathema chuckled and then made a show of standing properly in place, trying to wipe the grin off her face.

Newt smiled broadly and continued,  
"To, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and hold in times of difficulty and ease, in times of joy and pain, and in times of happiness and sorrow, and in times of illness and prosperity." 

As Newt said these vows, his voice, though carrying to the audience, was softly spoken, the only person who needed to hear them was only a few inches from him. His whole world was right there, and she was the only one who needed to hear them.

The officiant kept going, "Anathema please repeat these vows after me. I Anathema Device, take you, Newton."

Anathema cleared her throat, "I Anathema Device, take you Newton."

"To be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and hold in times of difficulty and ease, in times of joy and pain, and in times of happiness and sorrow, and in times of illness and prosperity." The officiant guided.

"To be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and hold in times of difficulty and ease, in times of joy and pain, and in times of happiness and sorrow, and in times of illness and prosperity." Anathema repeated, her face looking up at Newt, her eyes bright and her smile lighting up both their faces.

The officiant gave a big sigh, and proclaimed, "Anathema and Newton, on behalf of all those present, and by the strength of your own love, I pronounce you married.  
You may NOW seal your vows with a kiss." The officiant dramatically waved her hands for the newlyweds to proceed.

Everyone applauded as the pair kissed. Aziraphale wordlessly handed Crowley his handkerchief with a small smile.  
Crowley took it and dabbed at his eyes, glad that he had thought ahead to miracle the tear proofing on his mascara and eyeliner.

As Anathema and Newt walked up the aisle, with The Them following behind pelting confetti at their heads, everyone stood to applaud the newly married couple. 

"After a short intermission we will have the reception in about fifteen minutes. " Newt announced before they left the ballroom.

The guests followed the pair out of the ballroom to mingle and freshen up.  
Aziraphale Crowley stood next to some windows overlooking the streets and park and chatted with Warlock who had ambled over to them.

"Nanny!" He exclaimed wrapping his arms around Crowley's middle.

"Hiya Hellspawn, how are the kids treating you? Do I need to rub chili powder in their eyes?" Crowley asked returning the hug, Warlock coming almost up to his shoulders now.  
He felt Warlock shaking with laughter.  
,  
"No Nanny, they're nice, me and Adam are best mates." Warlock said with a little smile.

"You know my real name now kiddo, you don’t have to keep calling me Nanny." Crowley said a bit sheepishly ruffling Warlock's hair.

"I know. You're still Nanny though. Just like this one...." Warlock said slipping off of Crowley and sliding to Aziraphale, wrapping his arms almost around his thick middle.

"Will always be Brother Francis!" 

Crowley started laughing as Aziraphale reciprocated Warlock's hug and shot Crowley a dirty look.

"Unless those names bother you now." Warlock said pulling away from Aziraphale's soft chest.

"I don't mind Nanny." Crowley said with a chuckle.

Aziraphale cleared his throat then smiled at Warlock, "I never really liked my disguise or name as Brother Francis, but if you would still like to call me that dear boy you can." 

Warlock considered this for a moment and then laughed and asked with a mischievous look. "What about Bro Fran?"

Crowley barked out laughter at the slight grimace on Aziraphale's face at that suggestion, clutching his stomach as he laughed harder than he had at the ceremony.  
Aziraphale looked at Crowley laughing, his slender shoulders shaking, his gleaming teeth bared with glee instead of spite, the sunglasses close to slipping off his arrogant nose.

"Whatever you would prefer Warlock dear." Aziraphale said with a smile, looking at two of the people he most cared for in existence.

Warlock looked at Aziraphale for a moment, then to Crowley who was slowing down on the laughter but fighting giggles.

"Zira?" Warlock asked after considering it.

"Then Zira it is." Aziraphale said smiling.

Warlock gave them each one more squeeze then ran to catch up with The Them.

As people began trailing back into the ballroom for the reception Crowley fell in step with Aziraphale after habitually circling him.  
His gaze took into the new set up of the ballroom, tables and chairs about, a band up where the altar was playing a slow melody.  
There was a buffet set up on the side, a big cake at a separate table.

Aziraphale and Crowley mingled about a bit, Congratulating Anathema and Newt, then visiting with Madame Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell for a moment before meandering over to the buffet.

"Oh look Crowley, they have Cheddar Gougères." Aziraphale exclaimed with a little wiggle of excitement. 

"Here let's go through, I'm not hungry angel. I'll grab us some wine and you get something to nibble on?" Crowley suggested with a cocked eyebrow looking over to where the bartender had set up.

"Sounds like a good idea my dear." Aziraphale said with a slight smile.  
Crowley kissed Aziraphale on the forehead and practically glided to the bartender on the other side of the ballroom, leaving Aziraphale beaming.

Aziraphale looked at the buffet and wiggled his shoulders, excited for all the little temptations set up on the row. Many different hors d'oeuvres to taste, some of Spanish background, some French, and some their native British treats.  
Aziraphale grabbed a plate and went along the buffet table grabbing a little of this and a little of that. 

In addition to the cheddar gougères there were porcini mushroom tartlets, zucchini-tomato verrines, mini quiches, chocolate éclairs, croquets de jamón, Catalan nut tarts, individual shrimp cocktail, prosciutto, chorizo manchego and olive skewers, so many options, so little plate, luckily he had grabbed one of the larger ones to accompany his taste buds demands.

As he idled through the line Crowley looked at the wine options that the bartender had on hand. It's like Newt and Anathema couldn't decide which region they wanted their wines from, not that he was complaining, the more options the better. He looked between the wines, a bit impressed to see Sierra Cantabria Teso La Monja Toro as an option, but considering Anathema's families wealth he shouldn't be surprised.  
Alvaro Palacios L’Ermita Velles Vinyes Priorat, Jacky Truchot Clos de la Roche Grand Cru, Leroy Domaine d'Auvenay Les Gouttes d'Or, so many options to pick.

He finally just settled on a couple glasses of the Sierra, then bribed the bartender with a fistful of pounds to have him send a bottle of the Sierra up to his and Aziraphale's room. Pulled out some of his old tempting charms to try for a second bottle for the morning, materializing more money to give the poor sod. The bartender began telling Crowley how this was his second job that he was working to help provide for his sick father.  
Crowley sympathetic to the young man, materialized a small fortune in the man's wallet.

As Aziraphale was coming to the end of the buffet he glanced at Crowley who was still talking with the bartender, Aziraphale smiled and carefully added an extra chocolate éclair to the plate, he knew Crowley enjoyed those as much as he denied other foods.  
As he moved along he reached for a mini cucumber smoked salmon appetizer bite with lemon dill cream cheese, the tongs he was holding clanked against another set reaching for the same salmon bite.

"Oh terribly sorry." Aziraphale apologized looking up, seeing Anathema's Aunt Arindetta and Uncle Ramos standing on the other side of the buffet table, Ramos holding the other set of tongs, an unidentifiable look on his face, while Arindetta had a stiff smile on hers.

"Not a problem." Ramos said, his voice brusk and he gestured for Aziraphale to pick his salmon bite first.

"Oh, oh thank you. " Aziraphale said with a smile.  
As he looked carefully at the tray of salmon bites, he could feel Arindetta and Ramos looking him up and down.

"That is a very, unique, outfit of dress." Arindetta said with a twinge in her voice.

Aziraphale glanced up with a smile, "Oh thank you, well Anathema loved it as I hoped she would. When I found it at the Vintage Showroom I was so delighted. Usually their inventory is just whatever no one wants anymore, luckily there had been a few large estate sales near Mayfield that donated to their stock and voila." Aziraphale said gesturing at his apparel proudly.

Ramos gave a small chuckle and said to his wife, "Well THAT explains it."  
Arindetta nodded as a response.

Aziraphale's eyebrows knitted together, "I'm sorry, explains what exactly?" He asked confused.

"Oh well, during the vows, when we had heard your laughter and turned to inquire what the noise was, and saw you in this lovely attire. We were struck as to why someone would wear something so ill fitting to a wedding." Ramos said with a cold upturn of his lips.

Aziraphale suddenly felt heat rising to his face, and he was made very aware of the feeling of the slightly tight clothing he had on and how it was clinging in certain places. He was also suddenly very aware of all the people close by trying to go through the buffet, the ones he didn't know, their bodies close, the heat from them making him uncomfortable, feeling too crowded, their voices blending together making a dull roar in the background.

"The fact that it is a thrifty find explains it, but next time you perchance a purchase of a secondhand piece of clothing, might I suggest Madame Minxy on Thoracia Boulevard? She's a wonderful seamstress, why she helped a dear friend of mine who had gained quite a lot of weight during her pregnancy and couldn't seem to shake it off. Instead of fighting the good fight she just gave up. Gave in to all her, cravings," Arindetta said primly, pausing making a pointed look at Aziraphale's plate.

"Poor thing could never curb her appetite could she dear?" Ramos asked.

"No, poor dear just let herself become so, so..." Arindetta paused trying to come up with a word.

"Disgusting, grotesque." Ramos supplied with a sneer.

"Oh just utterly fat, absolutely pouring out of any clothes she had. Her belly just peeking out of everything, absolutely massive. Started seeing Madame Minxy and now she at least has good fitting clothes, even if she's still fat." Arindetta said with a simple wave of her hand, dismissing any other thoughts on her neighbor.

The heat in Aziraphale's face hadn't diminished, and he began feeling an unpleasant feeling in his stomach. And a fuzzy static feeling in his head. He blinked a couple times and looked by the bar for Crowley who was still talking to the bartender. The crowd of people seemed to amass him more, little tunes of laughter seemed to be aimed at him, though he hadn't said anything, especially not anything funny.  
The words Gabriel had spoken around the time of Armageddon came back to him, as well as things other archangels had said previously. 

"Ah, I do have a tailor that I have seen for quite some time, but I thank you for the suggestion." Aziraphale said after clearing his throat. 

Arindetta laughed, a high pitched laugh, and Ramos raised an eyebrow.

"Well, dear sir, perhaps your tailor is losing his touch. Or perhaps you've just gained some more weight since taking this piece to be tailored? Indulging too much to your cravings perhaps?" Ramos asked glancing back at Aziraphale's plate.

Aziraphale took a silent breath, "yes, yes perhaps that's it." He replied with a weak smile, willing this conversation to be over.

"Its so nice that your, er, husband, seems to be comfortable with such a larger spouse. Does he have a, partiality for that type of thing?" Ramos asked sparing a glance at Aziraphale's face.

"Must have, I know you wouldn't stand for that. Don’t know many that would." Arindetta said with a look to her husband. 

Ramos nodded solemnly and added, "Why your friend's husband began talking to some members of a chat room for that sort of thing once your friend couldn't lose the baby weight and let herself get so fat. He seemed better at handling it after that, did you know that?" He asked his wife who nodded in return.

"Well it was lovely to meet you, ah I believe Anathema said your name was Azrifull?" Arindetta said with a smirk. 

"Lovely to meet you as well." Aziraphale said with a slight nod without bothering to correct her.

Arindetta and Ramos grabbed one more hors d'oeuvre and walked away, arms linked at the elbows, smirks on their faces. 

Aziraphale stood there for a moment, the heat in his face still present, the twisted feeling still in his stomach, his heart beat quickly, the crowd around him seemed to be pressing closer than before, the static in his brain increasing in volume.

He suddenly felt the need to get out of the crowded ballroom, get out of the ill fitting clothes, get out of his skin, out of his corporation, just get out.  
He turned away from the buffet table and tried to swiftly get out of the ballroom. 

Moving suddenly Aziraphale banged Into another wedding guest at the buffet table, who had been standing close trying to reach a salmon bite himself, promptly knocking his plate of food out of his hands.

"Oh I am terribly sorry." Aziraphale said flustered to the man, his brain was not focusing in enough to recognize him. 

The man had thick brown hair cut short, with kind eyes, their color like the sea, somewhat green and somewhat blue and somewhat gray, and a dimple in his chin.  
"No I'm sorry, I was in your personal space and wasn't trying to be, just was trying to get a salmon bite before it disappeared. No sushi on the buffet so this will have to do." He said with a shrug and a half smile.

"Here, you can take my plate, I am, no longer hungry." Aziraphale said offering the man his plate of food.

"Are you sure?" The man asked with an up quirked eyebrow.

"Quite sure dear fellow. I, I'm not hungry, my, cravings have been demolished for the time being, and I am going to retire in my room. Don't want this, lovely plate to go to waste." Aziraphale said with a bit of a shakiness in his voice.

The man took the plate, now holding one in each hand, and looked up at Aziraphale, "I hope this isn't in regards to what those, awful people were saying." He said gently, not wanting to overstep, and not wanting to broadcast anything to other guests. After all he didn’t know this man, had just seen him at the buffet table, but he, like others had heard every word.

"It's a combination of things." Aziraphale said feeling a blush appear on his face, not realizing how many people might've heard the exchange that had went on.

"Well, thank you for the plate, and for the record, I think you look rather lovely in your ensemble, and that those two, they can bugger off. Some people get their joy from making others feel less than they are and it is not right. Hopefully this doesn't diminish your happiness in your wardrobe or yourself tonight or ever. You look like quite a wonderfully kind human, quite beautiful as well, and you deserve every happiness that befalls you." The man said with a determined look on his face.

Aziraphale looked at the man a moment and gave a weak smile, he seemed wiser beyond his years and with an attitude he hoped spread to everyone else.

"Thank you dear fellow..." Aziraphale trailed off, wanting to be polite but also wanting to leave immediately. 

"Jacques." The man said introducing himself, with head tilt.

"Thank you Jacques, now I really must be going. I hope you enjoy the food and the rest of the reception. " Aziraphale said starting to get a little flustered with wanting to depart.

"Could I perhaps get your name?" Jacques asked him, a slight blush creeping on his face.

Aziraphale felt his lip turn up slightly, "I'm Aziraphale." He replied with a small smile.

"It was nice to meet you Aziraphale, I hope you have a good rest of your evening." Jacques said with a gentle smile, that dimple appearing.

Aziraphale gave a small smile back and with a nod to the kind man he walked away.

Crowley started heading back to the buffet, assuming Aziraphale was still there, holding a glass of the wine in each hand.  
As he walked across the room he noticed other patrons of the wedding whispering and gawking at him.  
Some in awe, some in lust, some in confusion, and some in disgust.  
He clenched his jaw and kept walking, his chin pointed upward, hell bent on ignoring everyone but Aziraphale. 

A bouncy purple ball of tulle and glitter came to a halt in front of him.  
"Hi!"  
He paused a moment, Anathema's niece, Andromeda was looking up at him with big brown sparkly eyes.

"Hullo." He said precariously, with a raised eyebrow, not that he didn't like kids, but he wasn't familiar with this child, and he didn’t want to scare her.

"I like your dress." She said with a big grin, she had several gaps in the grin and she was teetering onto her tip toes and back down repetitively. 

"Thank you." Crowley said, his face relaxing slightly.

"Are you a boy or a girl?" She asked looking at him inquisitively, still teetering on and off her tiptoes.

Crowley's second eyebrow shot up to join his first one, surprised at the girl's question.  
His mouth quirked up in a smirk, but he quickly rearranged his face so she couldn't see him chuckling at her.  
He remembered how kids her age were when they asked a serious question and an adult laughed at them.

He looked at her thoughtfully and asked,

"Why do you ask?" 

She turned and pointed at the buffet table where a couple were standing, coincidentally talking to Aziraphale from the other side of the buffet table.  
Crowley took a moment to absorb Aziraphale standing there. Absolutely breathtaking in his blue and gold embellished outfit. It brought out the shade of his eyes, making them pierce Crowley's heart from even across the room.

"My mommy and daddy said that only girls are supposed to wear dresses, and that it was, sandal eye zing that you were wearing one to auntie's wedding." She said as she turned back to Crowley. A curious look on her face, wrinkles between her eyebrows appeared grooved in her toffee tinted skin.

Crowley looked from Aziraphale to look at the couple the girl had been pointing at, who had been talking to Aziraphale.  
A waif thin woman wearing a smirk and a hideous green dress, and a man who was somewhat shorter than her and had a moustache that seemed like it was supposed to come off as debonair but looked more like a balding caterpillar had been stuck to it with pin cushions.

"It's scandalizing to wear that shade of green outside of a toilet bowl." Crowley mumbled to himself.

Looking away from the buffet table he looked back to the little girl.  
She was emitting pure sunshine from her being, she was too cute, dimples in her cheeks, curly brown hair starting to boink out of the bun she had slicked back.

"Well, kiddo, Andromeda, to answer your question I am not a boy or a girl." Crowley said being serious with the girl. 

Her smiling dimples disappeared and her brow furrowed, looking adorably bewildered. Crowley smiled gently.

"I am..." he paused, wasn’t sure if he wanted to go into a long detailed history of Demonics 101 with this random child.

"Are you non bye mary?" She asked, her eyes sparkling again.

Now it was Crowley's turn to look bewildered.  
"Am I what?" He asked her once he thought her words over a few times.

"Non bye mary. It means you don't say you're a boy and you don't say you're a girl. It means you're just, you. Bye means two of something, mary means genders like boy and girl. So bye mary is the two genders. And since non means no it means the opposite of bye mary. So non bye mary means you don't inscribe yourself as a boy or a girl. You're just you." She said all of this in that quick excited way that reminded Crowley of Aziraphale talking about this or that first edition, or Warlock when he was in his dinosaur phase.

Her eyes were wild and sparkling waiting for him to know what she said.  
"Non bye mary." He repeated a few times.  
"Oh non-binary, is that it?" He asked. 

"That's what I saaaaid." She said, an up clip to her voice, dragging the word out.

"Of course, of course, sorry love, I'm from here in England and it's hard to hear things that aren't in my accent." He said pulling an explanation out of thin air.

"Oooh, it's okay! We're from San Jose it's in California, that's where my mom met my dad." She said smiling real big again.

"That's wonderful." Crowley said, glancing back up to Aziraphale, who was now chatting with a different person, a man, Crowley couldn't see him or Aziraphale very well since there was a crowd gathered by that end of the buffet now. And that was making Crowley antsy, and on edge.

"So are you?" Andromeda asked in a tone similar to that of someone you wouldn’t want to waste their time.

"That is one way to describe it, non-binary, though some people have described it as being more, demonic." Crowley said with a little distracted edge to his voice as he was trying to get a clear view of Aziraphale, too many people mulling about that part of the table. 

"Well those people are mean, just because you're non bye mary doesn't mean you're bad." Andromeda said crossing her arms across her chest, lips outward in a pout.

Crowley looked down at her, such a fire in her heart, such compassion, he hoped it stayed there as she aged.  
He crouched down in front of her, balancing the wine so it wouldn't slosh.

"No, that doesn't mean I'm bad, but thank you, it's nice to hear that. For me and other people that are non bye marys. As for if I'm a boy or a girl I think non bye mary describes it really well. I just like wearing dresses sometimes, just like I like wearing pants sometimes." Crowley said looking over the edges of his sunglasses to Andromeda. 

She smiled, "if my daddy says something like that again I'll tell him you like dresses and to mind his own business." She said this giggling, covering her gap decorated smile with a dimpled hand.

"Good deal kiddo, it was very nice to meet you Andromeda. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to find my friend." Crowley said rising back up to his full height.

"Your boyfriend?" She asked before he could walk away.

Crowley paused and chuckled, he forgot how bloody inquisitive kids were, he missed it though.

"He's my angel." Crowley said, his voice soft and smooth, deep and rich, his eyes relaxing behind his sunglasses.

"That's better than a boyfriend right?" Andromeda asked, continuing to make sure Crowley was unable to leave. 

"Much better." Crowley assured her.

She smiled and then seeing The Them hurry past she hopped over to where they were and joined them.  
Crowley thanked Someone that she had someone else to chat with now, so he could get a move on. 

Crowley headed to the buffet table where he had seen Aziraphale talking to the man, but now he didn't see Aziraphale at all.  
Crowley paused a moment, and scoped the length of the table from where he stood, slowly, calculating, absorbing everyone there.

Seeing that Aziraphale was not among them he walked a little faster toward the last place he saw the angel. Not caring now that the wine was sloshing out of the glasses, trying to calm the rising panic in his chest, his heart was beating a little faster, and his mind was trying to pull him to the last time he couldn't find Aziraphale. He couldn't go there right now and shook his head slightly to help deter the memories from swarming.  
Luckily the man was still standing in the vicinity of where Aziraphale last was, and Crowley zeroed in on him, unwilling to let him get off before Crowley spoke to him.

The man started to turn around, away from Crowley, and began walking a few steps.  
"Oi!" Crowley snapped at the man as he approached his retreating form.  
The man jumped a bit and turned to face Crowley, surprise plastered on his face.

"Where did he go?" Crowley snapped, his voice a slight growl.

The man's features knit into an expression of befuddlement.  
Crowley took a deep breath in, trying to not make a scene or yell at this wedding guest that just happened to be the last person talking to his everything.

"The, man, you were just talking to, his name is Az..."  
"Oh Aziraphale? Yes, he said he was going to go to retire in his room." The man said with wistful sigh and a faraway look in his eyes.

"Why?" Crowley asked in a sharp tone, not a growl, but not coated in sweetness either.

"He said he was tired, but I have a feeling that wasn't all of it, he seemed quite sad." The man said meeting Crowley's gaze behind his sunglasses.

"What happened?" His voice grating, teetering between anger and worry made the stranger cringe slightly. 

The stranger looked at Crowley for a moment, as if to assess his character, make sure he was the right person to tell this to. Whatever test he was giving Crowley, he must have passed because the stranger gave a deep sigh with an auditory "oof."  
He rubbed the back of his neck and then said to Crowley, "he had been having a conversation with a couple that were not very nice, they basically fat shamed him and they were very rude. I tried to, er reassure him that they were just unkind and their opinions didn't matter, and that he was quite gorgeous, after they upset him, but..." A frown deepened on the man's face as he relayed this information to Crowley.

Crowley's face twisted into a snarl, he wanted to shift into a colossal snake to wreak havoc on those people for hurting his angel. With his eyes closed and his anger coursing through him he could feel his reptilian self slithering close to the surface. Felt it twisting and shifting into angry coils and knots, waiting and watching to strike.

He needed to go to Aziraphale, wreak vengeance later, Aziraphale always.  
Crowley inhaled slowly through his nose, his mouth still set tight, his hands clenched angrily, his sinewy muscles taut, small vibrations rolling through his corporation. 

Once he had taken a few long slow breaths his eyes slit open slightly.  
The man was standing there looking at him, a look of concern mixed with hesitation on his face, sea colored eyes looking at the shattered wine glass shards in Crowley's hands.  
The man grabbed some napkins and handed them to Crowley wordlessly.

Crowley let the other bits of glass fall to the ground as he wiped the wine off his hands.  
"Thank you..." He muttered, trailing off, not knowing the mans name.

"Jacques Emerson." The man supplied giving a nod.

Crowley took in another deep breath through his nose.  
"Crowley." He replied slowly, still afraid he may unleash some reptilian demonic powers on this man.

They heard a high laugh and Crowley looked to see what it was.

The woman Jacques had gestured to was laughing at something the man with her had said. They were sitting at a close table with a candelabra centerpiece, and glasses of wine close to the tables edges. The man was reaching up to give her a bite of something, looked like frutti di mare.

Crowley growled low under his breath, and snapped his fingers.  
He watched and waited.

As he watched the man brought the large spoonful of food to the woman's lips, she smiled and opened her mouth wide, and he inserted the spoon, and rested his hand back to the plate, readying the spoon for another bite.  
She looked coy as she took the bite, and then her eyes became wide and she screamed as the baby octopi from that spoonful latched onto the side of her lips.

"Get it off get it off!" She cried to the man as she pounded on the table, the baby octopi now crawling from her lip to her cheek.

The man just looked at her dumbfounded, in shock, not realizing that the hand he was poised with a second bite now had baby octopi crawling up his arm. Their little tentacles wriggling on his suit sleeves.

"RAMOS GET IT OFF!" She screamed slamming her fist on the table.  
The shaking of the table knocked the candelabra over, which caused the napkins closest to her to catch fire, as well as the other of Ramos' sleeves.  
Ramos, now alert, grabbed the wine glasses in each hand and threw the liquid out towards the flames, one glass full extinguishing the small flame, the second soaking Arindetta's face and torso with wine, as well as some of the baby octopi that had began crawling on his arm.

The spray of wine caused her makeup to run, and the three baby octopi were now crawling over different areas of her, on was crawling it's way down her cleavage, on was tangled into her hair and the third was entwining with her eyebrow.  
Ramos now had two entwined in his hair that he was trying to remove as well.

Hysterical shrieks were coming from her as her husband tried to remove the octopi from his hair, but the slime that they were coated with was basically gluing them to everything that they touched.  
As he tried to extract them from his hair they came up with little pull, but the glue quality of the slime pulled up the toupee he had previously successfully passed off, revealing a scalp with frayed wispy white hair combed over to attempt to hide the skin patches underneath.

Arindetta leaped out of her chair and began swatting at her clothes and hair trying to get them off of herself.  
Ramos, toupee-less ran after her, the crowd half in shock, half in peals of laughter after them.

Crowley's mouth didn't even twitch as he watched the scene unfold. He just wanted them to have a bit of misery and humiliation like they had caused his angel. His angel who needed good things, good feelings. 

He turned away from the scene and turned to Jacques, who was wide eyed at the scene, and looked at Crowley with a healthy dose of apprehension. 

"Well, that was a thing." Crowley said nonchalantly.  
Jacques nodded in response.

"Thank you for your help Jacques, have a good rest of the evening." Crowley said gratefully, genuinely thankful that this human was kind to his angel.

"Anytime." Jacques replied with a small smile.

As Crowley walked away he snapped his fingers, miracling the best things of this mans desires to befall him today, he deserved it.

Crowley sauntered out of the ballroom and to the lift so he could head to the hotel room.

Aziraphale shut the hotel room door behind him and leaned against it. His arms above his head, his forehead touching the deep brown door. He took a couple slow deep breaths in and out, in and out.  
The door handle was fogging up with each exhale.  
He turned around and leaned against it with his back. He could still feel his heart beating quickly, he closed his eyes and took in a slow inhale, while doing so he thought of three things he loved, Crowley, his books, and tea. Then slowly exhaled thinking of three things he detested, wadded chewing gum on the sidewalk, smog, and the smell of mangoes.

This wasn’t working, it wasn’t decreasing his quickened pulse at all. He was increasing in body temperature and breathing pattern.  
He felt stifled and trapped under his clothing, overheated, he needed to cool off.  
He went to the closet and reached to open the door, his reflection catching his eye before he could open the door.

He looked at his round face, it still had a blush burning on it, it hadn't let up since speaking with that couple at the reception.  
He forced his gaze lower, to take in the offending outfit that he had been so foolishly proud of, foolish to think Crowley would find it, to find him lovely, he looked to see what they had seen.  
He saw the clinging of the fabric, tight against the outward swell and slope of his belly, saw the buttons looking as if they were going to scatter off with the wrong intake of breath, saw how it cling to his sides tightly.  
He clamped his eyes shut, he didn’t want to see any more, didn’t want to hear anything else, he wanted to rip the offending outfit off and put on the clothing he had worn before, at least it made everything less obvious.

Even though he wanted to rip the outfit off he carefully unbuttoned the tailcoat and slid his wide arms out of the sleeves. Even though he wanted to wad the clothing up and throw it at the bottom of the closet away and out of sight, he carefully grabbed a hanger and placed it there gently to a spot in the closet where nothing would tarnish the material.

He looked at himself in his ruffled shirt and choked back a laugh that was threatening to turn into a sob.  
Why had he saved this? It barely fit him anymore, arms were almost too wide for the sleeves, the ruffles emphasized his double chin, and he just looked like a sausage in it, and simply using a miracle to make it stretch to fit would just ruin the shirt in his eyes, and he mainly kept it for sentimental reasons anyway.  
Aziraphale sighed and took off that shirt as well, hanging it delicately in the closet.

Aziraphale went to sit on the edge of the bed to have a sense of balance so he could unfasten the buttons along the sides of his pants and tried to avoid his reflection even more now. Bare from the waist up, he definitely did not want to see his reflection at this time.  
Aziraphale took a deep breath, looking down, his doughy belly was like a red beacon of "Warning Warning Wrong Wrong" blaring repetitively.  
He closed his eyes and he brought his plump hands up to his face and buried himself in them.  
Trying to gain composure enough to redress, but he was unable to.

After a few moments he heard the clattering of the hotel door bursting open and slamming shut.  
"Angel?" Crowley's distressed tones called through the hotel suite, making Aziraphale feel even worse for making his beloved worry.  
He sniffed and realized he was still naked from the waist up, he gathered a wad of bedsheets from the opposite corner of the bed and flung them around himself.

Crowley jammed the card key in the slot on the door handle and barreled through the door, only one thing on his mind.  
Find Aziraphale, find Aziraphale, find Aziraphale. Okay maybe two things.  
Find Aziraphale, love Aziraphale, find Aziraphale, love Aziraphale. But that second one was a constant so it wasn't as urgently repetitively flashing in his mind to do so.

"Angel?" He called, trying to keep his tone casual and failing miserably. Anyone with ear drums could hear the hitches of worry and concern vibrating through the tenor of his call.

Crowley heard a ragged intake of breath coming from the bedroom and he followed it, and found Aziraphale sitting on the side of the bed with a bedsheet haphazardly pulled over himself. 

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Two moments.  
Crowley could tell that Aziraphale had been crying because of the watery look in his eyes  
Aziraphale could tell Crowley had been scared from the way his breath was hitching.

"Ah, hullo." Aziraphale said not making eye contact with Crowley, gripping and ungrasping the sheet around himself.

"Hi." Crowley said, amber eyes assessing everything. 

"I, er, wasn't feeling well, all of a sudden. I'm sorry to have worried you, I shouldn't have left so abruptly." Aziraphale said, still not meeting Crowley's gaze.

"Feeling any sort of unwell specifically?" Crowley asked trying to pinpoint which direction he should be taking for this conversation.  
What sort of words should he be giving Aziraphale at this moment? Did he need showered with adoration? Did he need a laugh? Did he need a pep talk? 

"Not particularly any specific sort. Just a general feeling of unwell." Aziraphale said still not meeting Crowley's gaze.

Crowley's eyebrows knit together, and he kept trying to test the dialogue needed.

"You missed the big show." Crowley said, tentatively stepping closer to the edge of the bed where Aziraphale was sitting.

"Oh the vows were the best part, I didn’t need to see the cake cutting or the bouquet toss." Aziraphale said with a small smile.

"Oh not that show, you missed the show that happened with the buffet food, the frutti di mare." Crowley said, finally close enough to touch Aziraphale if he just lifted a hand.

Aziraphale looked up, clearly not expecting that response.  
Crowley smiled and looked at the spot next to Aziraphale, asking permission.  
Aziraphale gave a small, almost incomprehensible nod.

Crowley gently flattened the back of his dress and sat down on the edge of the bed pretty close next to Aziraphale. He was close enough he could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, could feel the softness where their legs and shoulders touched, could hear the little hitches in Aziraphale's inhales of breath.

He looked at Aziraphale a moment, the angel was still looking at the floor, his posture seemed more stiff than usual, he seemed diminished, like he was shrinking into himself, being as still as he could.

"So the big show, featured the frutti di mare, like I said. You didn’t happen to eat any before leaving did you?" He paused, then added quickly, "Would be greatly concerning if you had." Crowley was not trying to put his foot in his mouth now, not when his angel was already in a bad place.

"Ah, no, I didn't eat anything before leaving." Aziraphale said, his fists gripping the bed sheet tighter, his gaze still downward cast.

"Well good, the food all seemed atrocious anyway, but get this, the frutti di mare, with the little baby octopuses right? They started crawling over unsuspecting patrons!" Crowley said trying to build a smile out of Aziraphale's shattered facial features, an extra exaggerated grin on his own face.

A golden eyebrow quirked up and Aziraphale finally looked at Crowley with a surprised and confused look.

"Yeah they just started crawling all over this lady and her husband, making them make total idiots of themselves, a toupee went flying, sleeves caught fire, it was a mess!" Crowley said remembering the scene and trying to bring some humor to it and not seething anger.

"Gracious, that sounds, awful." Aziraphale said with a little sound of surprise. 

"Nah, the buggers deserved it from what I hear. " Crowley said, slipping before he could catch himself.

Aziraphale's lips formed a thin line, not asking anything, not giving more information, but Crowley could tell he was somewhat suspicious.

Crowley rubbed the back of his neck.  
"I heard they had been complete arsehole wanks to this particularly gorgeous wedding guest." He said, bringing his hand around and running it along his throat, peeking at Aziraphale as he did so.

Aziraphale's gaze averted from Crowley's face and went to his own hands.  
They clenched the fabric of the bedsheets and gripped it tighter to himself.  
He wanted the sheets to protect him, to hide him, to conceal his less than ideal corporation from Crowley.  
Of course they couldn't hide everything. Crowley did have eyes, eyes that could see, see him and all his, imperfections.  
Aziraphale sighed deeply.

Crowley carefully watched Aziraphale, watched all the emotions flit across his face with his thoughts that seemed very sad.

"Hey angel?" Crowley asked gently.

Aziraphale winced ever so slightly at the name. 

"Could you help me with my lipstick?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale's turned to look at Crowley, his face screwed into a bewildered look. That request was not what he was expecting to come out of Crowley's mouth. 

"I beg your pardon?" Aziraphale replied not sure if he had misheard.

"Could you help me with my lipstick? I feel like it got smudged when I was drinking the wine out there and I need to fix it or it's going to drive me insane. 'Good for a thousand kisses without smudging' my ass." Crowley said with his face scrunched up in distaste.

Aziraphale gave a little sigh, "of course dear." He said, Glad to have the distraction.  
He shifted on the bed to turn and face Crowley, who also turned towards him.

Aziraphale's eyebrows scrunched together as he peered at Crowley's lips, scrutinizing every molecule of red lipstick.

While Aziraphale did that Crowley looked at Aziraphale carefully, watching every movement he made.  
The way his blonde little curls were falling, halo like around the crown of his head. The way his golden eyebrows were taking this task so seriously. The way his blue eyes searched, looking at Crowley's lips so closely, so carefully.  
The way his plump cheeks were still flush slightly with pink.  
The way his round chin was tilted, determined to fix this for Crowley. 

His gaze drifted lower to where he could see the sheet resting just below the tops his padded rounded shoulders, where he could see the crease where his underarm began.  
Oh the lovely shade of skin there, like a pink peony, and probably just as soft, as silky.  
The flowered skin showing little flecks of gold at the crease.  
Crowley felt an ache in his chest.

Aziraphale gave an exasperated sigh, sat back slightly and said, "your lipstick isn't smudged dear. You look perfect, as always."

Crowley cocked his head to the side and asked incredulous, "are you sure? I swear I saw it was smudged."

"I'm quite sure dear." Aziraphale said, his eyes meeting Crowley's behind his sunglasses.

Crowley leaned forward and launched himself at Aziraphale aiming his lips to his, but his aim was off kilter and he connected with the point just under the corner of Aziraphale's bottom lip.  
He felt Aziraphale stiffed slightly under his lips, and Crowley gently, slowly leaned back.

Oh Someone what if this idea was a complete cock up, if Aziraphale didn’t want kisses, Crowley's kisses, not anywhere more personal than his plump gorgeous hands?  
Crowley tried to keep his plan in place.

"What about now? Is it smudged now angel?" He asked, his breath catching.

Aziraphale's eyes twinkled slightly.  
"No dearest. Not a smudge."

"Hmm. Interesting, I wonder..." Crowley said, his words trailing as he leaned forward again and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale's temple. His lips leaned into the Angel skin, feeling his pulse quicken there, feeling the warmth there, feeling his life there.

Crowley leaned away again, slowly, looking at Aziraphale, searching his face, for any signs of distress there.  
Aziraphale's cheeks were now a deeper shade of pink, like a hibiscus.  
His eyes still twinkling, his chest rising and falling quicker than a moment before.

"A-and now angel? Any smudges now?" Crowley asked shifting more in his spot to turn towards Aziraphale better. 

"Not even the slightest. " Aziraphale replied, his voice soft.

"Hmm maybe it's actually a-a permanent lipstick brand. I should probably get it off my lips to be sure that it will actually come off. Doesn’t that sound like the logical thing to do?" Crowley stumbled through that phrase like a drunk going down a staircase in Relitivity.

"Sounds like the safe thing to do." Aziraphale replied thoughtfully softly.

"All about that." Crowley said simply.  
He leaned closer to Aziraphale.

"Safety I mean."  
He tilted his head to the side slightly. 

"Regular law enforcement of an organization I am." Crowley leaned in closer.

Aziraphale giggled at that and Crowley's heart burst open.  
That giggle, those dimples, that smile.  
He would go to Hell every morning to do daily data entries on the manual typewriters using only his pinkies just to hear that giggle and see that dimple inducing smile.

Crowley gently reached up, placing on hand on the side of Aziraphale's face, his fingertips brushing soft golden tendrils, the heel of his hand cradled the soft round cheek.  
He stretched over the last inch and let his lips meet those of an angel. 

Aziraphale relaxed against Crowley's lips, against his touch.  
Everything else in the world disappearing, he was melting into where the warmth of Crowley's skin met his.  
He felt a buzzing where their lips touched, a gentle thrumming, like hummingbird wings.  
He pulled away slightly giggling at the tickling sensation and realized Crowley was humming gently.

"You're humming." Aziraphale observed aloud softly.

"Ssssorry." Crowley sighed, pressing his lips in a thin line.

"No, its, quite alright, it tickles." Aziraphale said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Crowley's lips stretched into a smile, wide and making dimples appear on each cheek.  
Aziraphale smiled back, letting his plump lips ease into the motion.

"Is my lipstick still there?" Crowley asked softly, concern in his voice.

Aziraphale's eyes barely flicked to Crowley's lips before answering, "yes, still pristine condition."

"This is a problem. " Crowley said trying to pull a serious set of his mouth in lieu of a smile, and failing miserably.

"Perhaps you need to, keep, testing, for it's fallibility. " Aziraphale said gently, feigning concern.

"If you say so." Crowley said slowly, each word slowly falling out from between his lips like honey drizzling from an almost empty plastic bear. 

They both leaned in at that point, Aziraphale's head turning to the side, his plump lips parted as if in a sigh.  
Crowley's sunglasses tipping slightly, making his vision half shaded.

As they melded together, Aziraphale let go of the bed sheet wrapped around him, letting it ease gently down, and he reached up, cupping Crowley's sharp chin in one soft hand, and carefully taking the sunglasses off with the other. 

He felt all the sharp angles of Crowley's face with this kiss, ran his fingers along them to give them a softness even temporarily. 

Crowley felt all this warmth beaming from Aziraphale with this kiss. A gentle warmth, not overbearing, and it exchanged to his mouth, his skin, with the closeness of the angel.

As they simultaneously pulled apart for air Aziraphale's face searched the amber eyes that had been left in the open, away from the dark lenses that hid them.  
They had a warm glow, like pools of honey, deep and full of yearning.  
He noticed when their gaze drifted from his face downward, where the sheet had dropped away from his chest slightly.

Aziraphale started, his breath caught in his throat, the words spoken at the reception filling his head again, and he leaned back, starting to pull the sheets up again. An embarrassed blush creeping up his neck. 

"Dearest?" Crowley asked softly.  
Aziraphale's gaze flicked back to Crowley, who was looking at him, his eyes still filled with a yearning desire.

"Yes?" Aziraphale replied, unsure, and scared of what words Crowley may be wanting to form with his ruby lips.

"May I?" Crowley asked reaching for the sheets that were gathered up at Aziraphale's shoulder.  
"C-continue?" Crowley stuttered, a blush creeping across his own face.

Aziraphale pulled back a moment, reaching for the sheets to keep his form covered, wanting to retreat into himself.  
He glanced at Crowley's face, on the verge of being crestfallen.  
Aziraphale let out a slow breath.  
"You may." He said closing his eyes, relinquishing the hold on the bedsheets. 

Crowley gripped the bedsheets that he had been fingering and looked at Aziraphale's face. His eyes were closed, hiding that heavenly blue hue, his face was tipped downward, not meeting Crowley's gaze.

"Angel? I-I wont, if you don’t want me to. But I would really like to. To k-ki, test my lipstick out thoroughly."  
Crowley stammered.

"You would?" Aziraphale asked looking up at Crowley, his voice doubtful, his mind full of the echoes from earlier.

"Of course I would, why wouldn't I? Just did, didn’t I?" Crowley asked, his voice half strangled with disbelief and absurdity. 

"But that was just, my, my lips that you, t-tested your lipstick on." Aziraphale stated, as if that made any sense to Crowley.

"Yeah?" Crowley hedged, his auburn brow raising up with confusion.

"You would want to, test your lipstick, elsewhere on my corporation?" Aziraphale asked, his voice stumbling, trying with his tone to get Crowley to understand was not working.

"Of course I would. Your lips were not enough to test on. I would like to, test further, everywhere on your corporation, everywhere you'd like me to, everywhere you’d allow me to." Crowley said trying to hide the desperate desire in his voice and failing.

"Even though, even though it, my corporation is so, utterly fat, you would like to, test your lipstick on it? Even if it is found d-disgusting and gr-grotesque, being this, utterly fat?" Aziraphale asked, tears prickling his eyes.

Crowley's hand dropped from the sheets, his brain must have short circuited, he swore he heard his angel, his achingly beautiful angel, say he was found as disgusting and grotesque. 

Crowley was struck for a moment on the blind rage and fury that flashed in his mind, making him wish he had unleashed the Kraken or Cthulhu on those utter bastards at the reception instead of just a couple teeny tiny octopi.  
His demonic mind found them in their hotel room, sharing a lovely bath together. He wiled up a tub full of dirt and manure and a thousand blooms of Titan Arum and topped off the compost mix with them.  
Then setting fifty surprised six month old skunks up in the hotel bed, with a host of millipedes to eat.

His rage stifled, for now, Crowley looked at Aziraphale, and his old sodding heart ached for the angel.  
Each tear in the Angel's eyes were shards of glass in Crowley's heart. 

"Angel." Crowley said with a gentle firmness, tilting Aziraphale's chin up carefully, his fingertips sinking slightly in the sweet soft extra flesh there.

Aziraphale's watery gaze looked up at Crowley, a couple tears escaping from his eyelids.

"You are fucking achingly beautiful angel. So dammed beautiful it hurts to look at you sometimes. Like, physically hurts, my stupid little heart."  
Crowley paused, taking a breath, letting every soppily sweet lament he had ever thought of the angel come pouring out. With one hand he kept Aziraphale's chin looking up, with the other he trailed his fingers through the curls.  
"Your hair," he paused to place a kiss gently at the crown of Aziraphale's forehead, "is just weaved of gold and it shines like the halo you wore up in heaven, giving you this ethereal glow all the time,"  
His slender hand moved down, tracing the side of Aziraphale's face with his fingertips.  
"Your face, oh God and Satan your face! It is the only face I ever want to see the rest of my existence, the only face that I have ever wanted to see all the Six thousand years we've been here on earth. You get this blush like this sweet pink color, it deepens on your sweet plump cheeks and they remind me of camellias. That’s why I have a whole garden full of that one flower, because they remind me of you! And these adorable little wrinkles here, they show all the joys you feel in existence and when I see them I know you're happy.”  
He placed sweet kisses at the corner of Aziraphale's eye, let his lips graze the angels skin as he slid his lips down to his cheek, and gently touched his lips there. Marking a trail of kisses downward.

Aziraphale was blushing now, making Crowley smile nervously.  
"And your eyes angel, they sparkle like all the stars I've ever helped create, and more so, and that blue, the blue in your eyes... I've never seen that color before in any spectrum of the cosmos. They allure me and beguile me and mesmerize me. And when you want something, oh you make em all wide and curl these beautiful lips into this pout that just makes me weak. Makes me want to, to, tear out my pancreas of that's what you were asking for."

Aziraphale laughed through the tears that were spilling down.

Crowley smiled with Aziraphale, and his hand trailed to his shoulder, he felt Aziraphale stiffen slightly.  
"These shoulders..." Crowley started, he pulled the sheet down gently, revealing pale pink skin, at his shoulders, and his soft padded chest with little zigzag stripes of gold at gently folded gatherings of extra flesh.

"These shoulders, this chest, I can rest my head against them, feel your heartbeat, hear you take in each little breath, and it reminds me that I am home. That we, that we have our side. That I have you."  
Crowley paused, drawing in a ragged breath, placing a kiss at the crease of extra flesh where his double chin began, along the side of his neck, and at the top end of Aziraphale's shoulder.  
As he ran his pointed nose along Aziraphale's collar bone, down his sternum, Aziraphale leaned back slightly. Not to get away, but to give Crowley easier access.

Crowley leaned forward, running his hands from each of Aziraphale's shoulders to his chest.  
Aziraphale leaned back against the pillows of the bed while Crowley leaned closer, the demon slightly hovering above him.  
Crowley's fingertips danced across Aziraphale's chest to where the lining of the sheet began, placing kisses across the wide rounded softness there. His lips slightly sinking into the angelic flesh that blushed with the touch, and when he lifted his lips now had red lip imprints all over.

Crowley hovered over Aziraphale, asking the questions with his eyes.  
Aziraphale nodded, a small smile on his face. 

Crowley pulled the sheets away and revealed the large expanse of flesh that had been hidden.  
"And your belly, your tummy, your stomach, whatever the bloody hell you want to call it. Heavens, it's so," Crowley paused his fingers trailing over the wide gathering of soft flesh there.  
He was struck speechless for a moment, looking at all this beautiful angel laid out before him.

"Fat." Aziraphale supplied for him, that deep blush returning. 

Crowley snorted a small laugh.  
"Yes angel, your tummy is fat, your arms are fat, your legs are fat, your hands are fat, YOU are fat. But I'll be dammed if that makes you think any less of yourself. If that makes you feel like you are anything less than beautiful. If it makes you feel less period." Crowley said with a determined set to his jaw.

"Aren't you already dammed dear?" Aziraphale asked, a small smirk playing across his face. 

Crowley barked a laugh.  
"Bastard." He said once he had composed himself.

Crowley ran his thin fingers along Aziraphale's tummy, feeling the softness there, exploring this part of the angel.  
The golden zigzags along his sides showing the growth over millennia time.

"These golden lines here," Crowley said softly, mesmerized, he leaned down and placed a kiss.  
"These are where She said there needed to be more of you in this world. On this earth. That what this planet needed was more of you."  
Crowley's hands traced the slope of Aziraphale's belly, felt the rolls on his sides.  
"These, are what humans call love handles I believe, and its such a fucking perfect term. Because I love them just as much as I love the rest of you." Crowley whispered softly, leaning down and placing three kisses along the rolls at his sides.

Aziraphale giggled and squirmed slightly under Crowley's kiss, a ticklish spot neither of them had known about. 

"This tum of yours angel, yes its fat, but sweet heaven above and hell below if it isn’t the fourth most beautiful gathering of flesh I had ever laid my eyes on. " Crowley said, his head dipping and planting kisses there.

"What are, the first three?" Aziraphale asked, his voice as warm as fresh baked gingerbread cookies.

Crowley smiled, reached for one of Aziraphale's hands, placing kisses on each dimpled knuckle, leaving five faded kiss marks there.  
Then he leaned upward and kissed the corner of Aziraphale's rounded jaw, leaving the faintest kiss mark there.  
Then he leaned forward, downward and stretched to reach Aziraphale's mouth.  
Planting a kiss there, his clothes skin pressed against Aziraphale's bare chest and stomach.

As he kissed him there Aziraphale wrapped his thick strong soft arms around Crowley and held him close. Letting his plump fingers trail gently along the side of Crowley's jaw, into the curls of his scarlet hair, pulling Crowley closer, not wanting this kiss to be broken.  
Crowley thumbed Aziraphale's rounded jaw and kissed him, as if making up for the six thousand years where he couldn't.

When they finally had to break for air, Crowley looked down at Aziraphale, his eyes heavy, his smile wide.

"Your lipstick dear." Aziraphale said with a smile.

Crowley touched a hand to his bottom lip, confused, his lips were still there weren’t they? He needed to continue kissing this gorgeous angel while he could.

"Its all smudged and faded love."  
Aziraphale said with a smile. 

Crowley appraised the kiss decorated angel, counting.  
"Well I'll be double dammed, a thousand kisses finally smudged it dinnit?" Crowley asked with a smile.

Aziraphale laughed so hard he shook Crowley who lost his balance and toppled over on the angel.  
Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley and pulled him closer, the side of Crowley's face nestled on Aziraphale's padded chest.

"Dearest?" Aziraphale asked gently. 

"Mmm?" Crowley hummed into his chest.

"You know you're striking and beautiful too. To me, to everyone, but especially to me." Aziraphale admitted, thumbing the side of Crowley's face with his thumb.

"M'not talking about me angel." Crowley mumbled, with a hint of an embarrassed tone in his voice.

"Well I am. You are the most beautiful creature ever to exist in this creation dear one. Your eyes alone, could launch a thousand ships, could start ten thousand wars." Aziraphale said, his voice dreamy as he thought of Crowley's eyes, since he couldn't see them currently.

Crowley's face heated in a blush and mumbled something incomprehensible into Aziraphale's chest. 

"And your scales, the ones you think I don't know about..." Aziraphale said treading carefully.

"Mmm?" Crowley asked wordlessly.

"They are as precious as rubies ans obsidian my dear beloved. " Aziraphale said sweetly.

One angelic hand trailed to Crowley's, and gripped it gently, resting their hands over his heart. 

"I love you Crowley, every beautiful thing about you dearest. But especially your beautiful heart." He said his voice soft and spoken into Crowley's hair.

Crowley smiled and nuzzled his face into Aziraphale's chest.  
"I love you angel. " he said.

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.hyatt.com/en-US/hotel/england-united-kingdom/hyatt-regency-london-the-churchill/lonch/rooms
> 
> Link to the hotel if you're a visual person.
> 
> Andromeda grows up to be sweet and kick ass like her aunt Anathema, she also cofounded a LGBTQ group home that provides housing and loving substitute families for the kids that dont get love or get kicked out. She is ace and has no desire for children, but she loves her fat older half long and curly half buzzed blue and pink haired super feminine cofounder Mel short for Amelia. They get married and Crowley and Aziraphale are there, crowley in the sparkle non bye mary dress.
> 
> If you follow me on tumblr you can see all the pictures I have for this fic in relation to outfit references.


End file.
